Dear Mr. Bloomberg,

You don’t know me. I however had the distinct displeasure to note many of the self-aggrandizing and self-serving politically engendered efforts you’ve tried to foist on your citizenry in New York City.

You sir are a joke: a posturing, pandering organ grinder continually spinning the handle making the grating noise you try to put across as entertainment. Your belief you make salient commentary on world events, presents you as non-productive, mildly entertaining at best and aggravating for the banality of the dialogue.

Please go away. You serve no purpose. You have billions of dollars in assets. This proves my theory any fool can get lucky and make obscene amounts of money in spite of themselves. Because you have wealth doesn’t imply you make sense. It merely says you have the means to publicize the depth of ignorance you put across while trying to scale the heights of political posturing.

You’re a good city manager. That must be recognized. You’re ignorant when it comes to people. You have NO right to command what I, or anybody else, may eat, drink or otherwise consume. You do not know me, therefore you have No idea what’s good for me. Your constant whining about caloric intakes and the cup size I choose to carry my soft-drink in shows the depth of your perverted belief you are my savior.

You aren’t.

You’re an aggravating little man with delusions of grandeur. You should stick your hand in your vest, marry Josephine and set sail for Elba after your electorate figures out what a dipstick you really are.

The liberal media considers you a darling little blurb creator where you will regularly postulate on the state of your (what I can only assume is) advancing senility. It’s a given liberals believe the state is the recognized replacement for any deity. Ask one and they’ll tell you how blessed you are to have the state making your decisions, guiding your life, regulating your performance and scheduling your health care because you’re too bloody stupid to be able to do it for yourself.

Mr. Bloomberg, you carry the guide-on for this movement and readily present you at the front of the parade as standard bearer of the left. It doesn’t get any more aggravating than this. Dogma guides practice, practice makes perfect and Bloomberg, you’re a perfectionist when it comes to attracting attention to your favorite causes. You’ve never seen a camera you wouldn’t fawn over.

You can’t smoke in public parks even though your taxes pay for them. You can’t escape nanny-state interference in where you eat, what you may order and how it’s prepared. Let’s not forget the famous “Trans-fat” in New York City. Until this, nobody knew what Trans-fat” was. Some are still confused as to what exactly is “Tran-Fat”; but we know Mr. Bloomberg thinks it’ll kill you unjustly.

Now we see the Savior program again.

It’s one thing to warn people of their own deliberate mismanagement of their activities. I’ve never seen the sense of eating French-fried pork fat and skins; my arteries start hardening at the thought of them. I don’t like Pork Skins and “Cracklins” (as we call them in Louisiana). But, it’s not my place to tell you they’re banned from buying them because I’ve got a problem.

This is America doggone it! We’re a free people, with freedom as a landmark value we hold inviolate. Some personality challenged dummy trying to tell you he alone knows better than anybody else in America what is good for Americans smacks of totalitarianism in the making. Remember the Napoleon allusion?

Mr. Bloomberg’s dangerous; not because he’s a plutocrat but because he’s got the financial means to direct laws and policies favoring him only. He’s already made it possible to put aside the old term-limit New York mayors served under. Billions of dollars in personal assets are what get that done.

No viable policy making and public spirited campaigning is necessary when you have the money to drown any other candidate facing off against you. You don’t have to be right to participate in American politics, but you must have lots of money.

Thanks for listening